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QUIGGLE DAY SPECIAL

Dance of the Rainbow Quiggle
By Riggy_piggy

A flicker in amazing light,
It changes and transforms the sight
Of onlookers who blankly stare right in,
To catch a glance of his silken skin.

A mystery to many for they don't know,
What hides beneath; it does not show.
It simply drifts and waits till night does break,
Where it comes to life and does awake.

And when it does, its skin does gleam,
And dances with its colour, serene.
A flash of dance, a motion strong,
Such motion to the water's song.

A pattern clearly shown by him,
A multi-colourful, beautiful whim.
Rainbow, his colour of amazing dream,
He dances with such strength and lean.

His patterns reflect the water's trace,
Dancing with such love and grace.
Luring in surrounding creatures,
Stunning all with rainbow features.

His dance will drift throughout the night,
'Till early morning's dawn-break light.
This is when the world awakens,
And his identity should remain mistaken.

A ray of light forms the horizon,
Such an aging sun, full of wizen.
And now his colourful dance must end,
To start the day, to form the usual trend.

Of hiding from his curious fans,
Who wish to see him, at least one glance.
But the Quiggle is wise and sinks so low,
To hide the patterns of his rainbow.

Catching Flies
By Kikiscamps_mom

Barthalomeus sat by the pond
On a summer's day
Looking for a morning snack:
A bug on which to prey.

The flies were buzzing everywhere,
Except for in his path;
Bart kept hopping from pad to pad,
And began to feel some wrath.

"Hold still you bugs!" our hero cried,
But alas, the flies just laughed.
"I'll get you yet, you wait and see,"
And he built himself a raft.

Poling here and poling there,
The Quiggle moved in vain,
For wherever Bart would put the raft,
The flies buzzed off again.

"Come here, my friend," called a voice,
Bart turned to take a look,
A smiling Nimmo stood on the shore,
Holding a pot, a brush, and book.

"Follow my plan and you'll dine well,
Would you mind me sharing?"
Bart was ready to try anything--
His efforts had been wearing.

The Nimmo brushed the pot's contents
Upon a nearby rock,
Then laid down on the green green grass,
Opened the book and sealed the crock.

A puzzled Bart flopped next to him
As the Nimmo began to read,
"The idea is to remain quite still,
And barely even breathe."

Time passed in the drowsy heat,
The friends sat still as mice,
Till the Nimmo shut his book and said,
"Lunch is ready, oh how nice!"

Bart looked over and to his shock
Struggling flies covered the rock!

"Let's dig in, and remember this,
My Quiggle friend so tired,
You can catch more flies with honey, friend,
Than you ever will with ire."

Flycatcher!
By Alyndasgallery

Lilies floating in the pond,
As pink as pink can be.
The Quiggle waits impatient,
For he is quite hungry.

Will he poke his long forked tongue,
And pluck the lilies dry?
Or will he wait a little more,
For an oh-so-tasty fly.

Perhaps if he is lucky,
If he widens his eyes to see
He might hear familiar buzzing sounds,
YES! A scrumptious bee!

A Quiggle's life is full of food,
Tasty morsels all around.
You need only to know where to look,
Tidbits lie all over the ground!

Quinton the Quiggle's Health Food
By Laurelinden

Turn down drippy popsicle ice;
Vinberry Ice Lollies can be nice.
If it's caramel that you crave,
Caramel Brussel Sprouts are the rave.

Try my tomatoes, fresh and picked today;
And don't forget your Vitamin A.
The Triple Carrot Sandwich's new;
Organic Spring Onion's great in stew.

My produce is all naturally grown,
Calcium helps strong teeth and bones.
Try a ripe organic apple or pear;
Or a Sprout Wrap, if you dare.

When next you reach for chips or sweets,
Come instead to Quinton's Health Food to eat.

Quiggle Flycatcher
By Anjie

Glassy is the cobalt pond,
Serene this place remains.
Lily pads are scattered here,
In idle, lazy chains.
Motionless, he sits alone,
Intense is solemn mood.
For Quiggles that sit still enough,
Shall always catch their food.

Crouched and silent, gaze is locked,
On tiny, circling Fly.
Buzzing creature couldn't know,
Of intent dark and sly.
Quiggle's bulging gaze does seek,
It traces, left and right.
Trained on prey he licks his lips,
And locks the Fly in sight.

Rapid push as tongue darts out,
Unfurling rather fast.
A sudden snap and Fly is gone,
A Quiggle meal, at last!
Satisfied he settles back,
His goal is done this day.
Slips into the crystal pool,
And silent, drifts away.



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